By Chinedu Okeke, Veteran Nollywood Critic
February 16, 2026
The contemporary Nollywood landscape is currently bifurcated. On one side, we have the high-octane, neon-lit "Glamour Realism" of the cinema-bound blockbusters; on the other, the prolific, emotionally-charged "YouTube Era" spearheaded by creators like Ruth Kadiri. Her latest production, Make Me Rich, directed by Tchidi Chikere and starring the likes of Scarlet Gomez and Qwasi Blay, sits firmly in the latter. It is a film that understands its audience's pulse—Nigerian families at home and in the diaspora—while attempting to elevate the "straight-to-stream" model through heightened psychological stakes and a narrative focused on the toxicity of inherited trauma.
Narrative Structure & Story Architecture: The Anatomy of a Grudge
At its core, Make Me Rich is a classic inheritance drama, a trope as old as Living in Bondage, yet it attempts a more sophisticated "social experiment" structure. The plot is anchored by a posthumous directive from a wealthy patriarch: his warring daughters, Morin (Scarlet Gomez) and Elsie (Francess Ben), must live in peace for one month to claim their inheritance.
The story architecture follows a traditional three-act structure, though it occasionally meanders into episodic territory typical of YouTube-first productions. The Hook—the reading of the will—is strong and effectively establishes the stakes: a 10% deduction for every fight. This "ticking clock" mechanism provides the necessary tension, but the escalation of stakes feels uneven. While the financial penalty is the external conflict, the internal conflict—years of psychological scarring—is where the film truly breathes.
The third-act payoff, involving a realization of their father’s own failures as a parent, provides a necessary emotional catharsis. However, the path to get there is marred by "forced conflicts." For a veteran observer, some of the blowups between the sisters feel engineered for high-click thumbnails rather than organic character evolution. Despite this, the film avoids the "deus ex machina" ending common in the genre by allowing the characters to arrive at their own, albeit painful, conclusions.
Screenwriting & Dialogue: The Weight of Words
The script for Make Me Rich is a study in "heavy-handed realism." The dialogue is peppered with the sharp, acidic wit that has become a hallmark of Nigerian domestic dramas. The use of English mixed with the cadence of Nigerian speech patterns feels authentic, particularly in the scenes involving the domestic staff, who serve as the audience's surrogate observers.
However, the exposition can be clunky. The film often falls into the trap of telling rather than showing. Characters frequently recap their grievances in long monologues that feel designed to catch up a viewer who might have missed the previous ten minutes. Where the writing succeeds is in the "Micro-Aggressions." The dialogue between Morin and Elsie isn't just about the money; it’s about the "mini-me" labels and the ghost of a father who weaponized his love. The script trusts the audience enough to understand the subtext of jealousy, even if the spoken words are sometimes repetitive.
Performances: The Gomez-Ben Dynamic
The success of a film like this rests entirely on the shoulders of its leads. Scarlet Gomez (Morin) delivers a performance of chilling rigidity. She captures the "First Daughter Syndrome"—the burden of expectation and the bitterness that comes from feeling like a second-class citizen in her own father's heart. Her micro-expressions during the lawyer’s briefing convey more than the script provides.
Francess Ben (Elsie) provides a necessary foil. If Morin is ice, Elsie is a flickering flame—unpredictable and reactive. Their chemistry is palpable; they look and act like people who know exactly which buttons to press to cause maximum damage.
The supporting cast, particularly Qwasi Blay, offers a grounded presence. Blay’s character represents the "Voice of Reason," a difficult role that can often come across as boring, but he manages to infuse it with a weary empathy. The children, unfortunately, are used more as plot devices than characters, particularly in the disturbing scene where they are thrown out of the house. While effective for drama, their lack of agency makes the scene feel slightly exploitative within the narrative framework.
Technical Execution: Cinema-Grade or TV-Grade?
In terms of Cinematography, the film reflects the "Prestige YouTube" aesthetic. The lighting is generally flat, leaning heavily on natural light and standard interior setups. While the framing is functional, there is an over-reliance on static medium shots. We don't see much dynamic camera movement that would heighten the psychological claustrophobia of the sisters being trapped in the same house. It is TV-grade coverage, but at the high end of that spectrum.
The Production Design is a mixed bag. The wealth is "Nollywood convincing"—grand staircases and marble floors—but it lacks the lived-in texture that separates a movie set from a home. Costuming is a standout; Morin’s wardrobe reflects her need for control and status, while Elsie’s style is more fluid, mirroring her "rebel" persona.
Sound Design remains a persistent challenge in this tier of production. The background score is occasionally intrusive, "telling" the audience exactly how to feel (sad piano for regret, sharp strings for tension) rather than letting the performances carry the weight. Dialogue clarity, however, is commendable, a significant improvement over the home-video era.
Themes & Cultural Commentary: The Failed Patriarch
The most profound element of Make Me Rich is its critique of the Nigerian Patriarchal Structure. While the father is dead, his shadow looms over every scene. The film subtly argues that the sisters' rivalry is not their fault, but the result of a father who used favoritism as a tool of control.
It touches on:
• The Burden of the Firstborn: The pressure on Morin to be perfect.
• Class Tension: The juxtaposition of the sisters’ inherited wealth against the precarity of the domestic staff’s lives.
• The Cycle of Trauma: How the sisters nearly pass their bitterness down to their own children.
The film is preachy in its conclusion, but the journey to that sermon is surprisingly nuanced in its portrayal of female rage.
Market Positioning: The Ruth Kadiri Effect
In the current industry, Ruth Kadiri has created a "Middle Cinema." It isn't the N100 million budget cinema release, nor is it the low-quality "Asaba" film of the early 2010s. Make Me Rich is a sophisticated product of the "Creator Economy." It is designed for high engagement, replay value, and relatability. Compared to recent streaming originals on platforms like Prime or Netflix, it lacks the visual polish, but it often surpasses them in raw emotional resonance for the local audience.
Strengths & Weaknesses
What Worked
• The Core Performances: Gomez and Ben carry the film with intense, believable friction.
• The Psychological Hook: The "10% deduction" rule is a clever way to externalize internal anger.
• Cultural Authenticity: It feels like a Nigerian story, told by Nigerians, for Nigerians—no forced Western tropes.
• The Father’s Journals: Using the letters to humanize the "villain" (the father) added a layer of depth that elevated the finale.
What Didn’t Work
• Pacing: At nearly 1 hour and 40 minutes, the second act drags with repetitive arguments.
• Soundtrack Over-reliance: The music often does the heavy lifting for the emotions.
• Cinematographic Rigidity: The visual language is safe and uninspired.
• Moralistic Ending: The resolution feels a bit too "packaged" given the extreme toxicity shown earlier (e.g., throwing children out).
The Verdict
Make Me Rich is a quintessential piece of modern Nollywood. It isn't trying to be The Figurine or The Black Book; it is a domestic drama that understands the intricacies of the Nigerian family. It succeeds because it taps into a universal truth: the people who love us most know exactly how to hurt us.
While it won't win awards for technical innovation or cinematography, it is a triumph of narrative engagement. It is a film that will be watched, discussed in WhatsApp groups, and used as a cautionary tale in many Nigerian households.
Overall Impact: Significant for the YouTube/VOD market. Who Should Watch: Lovers of domestic dramas and those interested in the evolution of Nollywood’s "middle-class" storytelling. Longevity Potential: Moderate; it will be a staple in the "Ruth Kadiri" library for years.
Rating: 6.5/10
Justification: Strong performances and a compelling emotional core are slightly weighed down by technical "safeness" and a bloated second act. However, it remains a superior example of contemporary Nigerian digital cinema.
Best Scene: The discovery of the father’s journals. It shifts the sisters' perspective from hating each other to mourning the father they never truly knew.
Most Powerful Line: "I didn't make you my enemy, Morin. Our father did. We were just the soldiers fighting his war."
Missed Opportunity: A deeper exploration of the husbands' roles. They often felt like spectators to the madness when they could have been used to further contrast the sisters' differing approaches to family.
Industry Lesson: Dialogue and character dynamics can sustain a film even when the budget limits visual flair. Focus on the "Human" before the "Heli-cam."
#NollywoodTimes
#MakeMeRich
#Nollywood2026
#InheritanceDrama
No comments:
Post a Comment